And I Love Her
by MsTonksLupin
Summary: Starts where the movie ends. After May of '68, a strange Parisienne ends up at New York. Max meets her at a party but she leaves before he gets to know her name. Will he see her again? Will they be able to understand each other? Read while listening. R
1. I saw her standing there

**Hello! So here I am starting a new fic. I am obsessed with Across the Universe and the Beatles, and I thought poor Max needed a good girl too in the end of the movie. So this will be my attempt. I am going to plead you to listen to the songs while reading this. I had not lived in that era, so there will be mistakes. I would be really glad if you reviewed, your opinion means a lot to me!**

Max had been dancing with a blonde girl for a while, but she started becoming annoying after two or three glasses. He wasn't easily bored at parties, but he didn't really have fun at that one. He looked around the room, ready to beg Jude to save him, with a gesture, but he noticed that his friend was too busy kissing his own sister. Well, he'd got used to it after all this time!

The blond girl was giggling almost hysterically, when his eyes caught a glimpse of a thin figure at the other side of the room. A figure who was not dancing. She looked young, and had short shiny black hair with a fringe. She was holding a glass in her hand, resting on the wall, looking rather bored to be there. He quite liked what he was seeing. He whistled, causing the blonde to get confused.

**Well, she was just 17,****  
****You know what I mean,****  
****And the way she looked was way beyond compare.****  
****So how could I dance with another (ooh)****  
****When I saw her standin' there.****  
**

He found an excuse, and walked between the couples dancing wildly. He reached her, but realized she had not noticed his appearance. He rested on the wall next to her, and cleared his throat. She turned to face him Her cat-eyes were black and twinkling but she clearly looked bored.

"Hello, there!" he smiled. "Are you having fun?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I don't know anybody."

"Aren't you dancing?"

"Pourquoi, do I look like danceeng to you?"

He noticed her unusual accent. "Are you French?"

"Oui. Mais my father is _américain_. So I can speak ze language."

"Will you do me the honor?" he offered her his hand, smiling playfully. She took it and immediately started dancing confidently. He was not ready for that, he thought that she had looked arrogant, and he felt quite taken aback when she accepted. Her moves looked natural and unpretentious. She gave him a smile.

******Well she looked at me, and I, I could see****  
****That before too long I'd fall in love with her.****  
****She wouldn't dance with another (whooh)****  
****When I saw her standin' there.****  
**

He examined her features, something which was not really easy, as the colorful lights that went on and off weren't helping. She would not be considered beautiful, or sexy, but she definitely had something. Her nose tip was upturning and her face reminded him of a pixie. She was wearing pants with high heels, and a chiffon shirt with braces. Her outfit resembled of a man, but it still had some kind of elegance and it suited her.

"So, are you living in France?"

"Si. Paris."

"And what brought you to New York?"

"My sister is an étudiante 'ere. I've come to visit 'er."

"Cool! So are you a student _aussi_?" he found himself amused, trying to remember a few French words to look smart. He had never really paid attention at school, especially at French.

"Yes. And you?"

"Moi, I am a taxi driver!"

"Magnifique!" she giggled.

******Well, my heart went "boom,"****  
****When I crossed that room,****  
****And I held her hand in mine...**

"You speak English _très_bon!" he nodded approvingly, while they made a twirl and he pulled her closer. He found himself inhaling her perfume, it clearly was an expensive one.

"I cannot say ze same about your Français!" she chuckled.

He felt his cheeks burning. _Well done, Max. _He thought. _You became fuckin' ridiculous again!_

They continued dancing without talking. He looked at her sweaty throat and short hair which swished when she jumped, his eyes travelled to her body. She was certainly not the curvy type of girl he would usually fall for, but he was drawn to her in a strange way. _Why? _He asked himself. _Maybe she looks kinda bizarre, exotic._

******Well, we danced through the night,****  
****And we held each other tight,****  
****And before too long I fell in love with her.****  
****Now, I'll never dance with another (whooh)****  
****When I saw her standing there****  
**

"How are things in France at the moment?" he asked, realizing he was sober enough for a political conversation. "Αre they still spiced up."

Her lips became a thin line. "Yes. There was that 'uge strike, I could talk about it for 'ours. I was there, you know."

Max looked at her quizzically. "You were there? I thought you'd meant high school, when you said you were a student! You look like, 17 or so!"

He felt her body stiffen. "I am 19, I'll become 20 ze ozer week."

******Well, my heart went "boom,"****  
****When I crossed that room,****  
****And I held her hand in mine...**

Max made another attempt to joke, but in vain. Apparently, he found his sense of humor almost lost during his conversation with that girl. "That's good! I mean, I won't be accused of seducing a kid!"

She laughed heartily and pulled the collar of his shirt. "Oh, don't worry! You cannot seduce me, sans ma permission! I'm less vulnerable zan I look." Her face was very close to his, her breathing on his neck had distracted him so much, that he did not realize that her hand was on his neck. Her fingernails slowly trailed on his skin and caused him to shiver. "If you'll excuse me now!"

And with that, she turned her back and walked away, leaving him completely confused and breathless, in the middle of the wildly dancing crowd.

"What. The. Fuck." He muttered to himself, wondering if he had had too much alcohol. "And I don't even know her name…"

**Oh, we danced through the night,****  
****And we held each other tight,****  
****And before too long I fell in love with her.****  
****Now I'll never dance with another (whooh)****  
****Since I saw her standing there **

**Did you like it? Do you want me to update?**


	2. Help

**Thank you so much for the reviews on the first chapter on my story! You are amazing! I hope you'll like this one. I really do apologize for any history mistake, or wrong reference to the events, but I was not in May '68 I will really appreciate any criticism and suggestion! Please, R&R!**

She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She put her hat on and walked out of the telephone booth. She hid her hands in the pockets of her dress and started walking.

**Help, I need somebody,****  
****Help, not just anybody,****  
****Help, you know I need someone,****  
****Help!****  
**

She had always been more of a romantic than she should be. Since she was a little kid she would carry her notebook and pen everywhere and form her thoughts into stories. Then, she would try to live in her vivid imagination, she would pretend her story was true.

But life didn't turn out to be a fairytale. Life turned out to be much more difficult than that.

She had never stopped feeling extremely grateful to live in that era, in Paris. She knew that those changes that were taking place there would be written in history, she would never forget those last months in her hometown. _Soyez réalistes, demandez l'impossible._ That was what they were shouting and writing on the walls. It was an extraordinary feeling. She felt proud whenever she was on a strike. She felt that they would change the world.

But nobody had ever told her that she would receive such news, when leaving home for only a week.

******When I was younger, so much younger than today,****  
****I never needed anybody's help in anyway.****  
****But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,****  
****Now I find I've changed my mind, I've opened up the doors.**

She was young. Very young. But for some reason, she felt like she had grown up quickly, from one day to the other.

She spotted a taxi coming closer and she immediately raised her hand. The taxi slowed down and she opened the door. She entered and took her hat off.

"Where to, love?"she could only see the blond hair of the taxi driver but she knew it from somewhere.. He was wearing a beret.

"Je ne sais pas." She whispered to herself, not realizing that she probably sounded nonsensical.

The taxi driver turned to face her. The sight of his face took her by complete surprise. Her heart rate increased. He would never forget that face.

It was the American guy who had danced with her at that dreadful party.

Apparently, he had recognized her.

"Shit!" he cried. "I mean, hello French girl, are you alright?"

"Non", she answered. "Je ne suis pas."

The taxi started off, and he handed her a tissue. "Here." He said. "You don't look really blissful at the moment. I thought you'd be, I heard De Gaulle's party won the elections at your country."

"What would make you t'ink that 'd make me 'appy?"

"I don't know, you just look so polished, and your clothes look kinda expensive…"

"I make my own clot'es. After all, you know not'ing about me!"

He focused at the road and did not turn to look at her. "Indeed I don't, but I would like to learn. First of all, your name."

**Help me if you can, I'm feeling down****  
****And I do appreciate you being 'round.****  
****Help me get my feet back on the ground,****  
****Won't you please, please help me?**

He heard her blowing her nose on the tissue. "Michelle." She said in a quiet voice.

"Glad to finally meet you properly, Michelle. I am Max!" His cheerful voice made her feel like she had found someone she already knew, even more than she knew her sister. "You had told me you were becoming 20 this week. When is your birthday?"

"Today."

"Really? Happy Birthday! And why are you so gloomy? I mean, you aren't getting really old or something!"

"Can you get me away?" Everybody else would have thought she was mad, but he understood. He nodded and kept driving.

"We'll go and celebrate properly. Now tell me, what's wrong?"

"My brot'er at France. He was hit by a policeman."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is he hurt?"

"Yes. He'll be alright, but I didn't… expect that would 'appen to us."

"I feel you. I didn't expect I'd go to Vietnam either."

Her eyes opened widely. "Were you at Vietnam?"

"Worst fuckin' period of my life. And I was injured."

"Really? Was eet… grave?"

"It was a bomb, quite near us." He saw her worried look and decided to lighten the atmosphere. "Well, my butt will never feel the same whenever I sit on a chair!"

He felt proud when he saw her laughing through the mirror of the taxi.

**And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,****  
****My independence seems to vanish in the haze.****  
****But every now and then I feel so insecure,****  
****I know that I just need you like, I've never done before.**

She did not look outside the window during the journey. New York made her feel unsafe, uncomfortable. But now she could not think of returning to Paris. Not yet. Suddenly, she realized that he was parking the car. She looked outside. It looked like an old factory. And they were by the seaside. He noticed her expression.

"Well, now you're probably thinking why the hell you let a stranger take you somewhere, and that I've brought you here to rape you or something. I must assure you…"

"Max," she smiled, "c'est fantastique!"

"I just thought you wanted to get away… somewhere quiet."

He got out of the car and opened her door.

"Won't you give me your 'and?" she joked.

"Of course, my fair lady!"

They had already danced together, but for some reason, their touching hands, made her shiver.

****

**Help me if you can, I'm feeling down****  
****And I do appreciate you being 'round.****  
****Help me get my feet back on the ground,****  
****Won't you please, please help me?**

They sat by the sea. She pulled off her shoes and put her toes in the water.

"I do apologize for not taking you out for dinner or something. That's what you'd probably have preferred for your birthday."

"Pas de _problème_, I'm not 'ungry."

"I can cook, you know. You can come to our place later."

"When you say _our_?"

"I'm living with some friends." He took her hand and helped her get up. He pointed at a big faded sketch of a woman on a graying wall opposite them. "That's my sister, Lucy." He smiled. "This is drawn by her boyfriend, Jude. They used to live with us but now they have their own apartment."

"Sounds like a lot of people in your 'ouse! I 'ave never lived with so many people before."

"You can… you can try. Are you staying at your sister's?"

"Not anymore. We disputed today."

"Did she throw you out?"

"I left. She said I should study something serious."

"What does _she_ study?"

"L' ingénierie."

"Engineering?"

"Yes."

"What do you study?"

"You won't understand… You will t'ink it stupid."

"I wasn't always a taxi driver, you know. I dropped out of Prinston and people thought of _me_ as stupid. But I made my choices. Try me."

Her heart started racing. "La literature. J' écris."

"Do you _write_?"

"I… I do."

"Will I get to read something?"

"What I 'rite is not half as good as your friend's drawings. Je n'ai pas du talent."

"Will you… try? Living with a lot of people, I mean. They'll all be glad."

"Are you inviting me to your 'ouse?"

"Actually I am. It's nice knowing someone in a completely strange country. I mean, now that you had a row with your sister. Of course, I'll understand if you don't…"

**When I was younger, so much younger than today,****  
****I never needed anybody's help in anyway.****  
****But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,****  
****Now I find I've changed my mind, I've opened up the doors.****  
**

For a reason not even she knew, she jumped in his arms and hugged him. And for a reason not even he knew, he ended up stroking her short hair.

He wanted her. That was for sure now. But he wanted her in a different way than he wanted other women. He pictured her in his room. Not in his bed. Somewhere else. Probably sat on the cupboard, with her legs hanging and moving in the rhythm of a song. He pictured her in his room, telling her everything about his life, getting to know her, and letting her be a part of it.

Max did not feel comfortable with what that strange girl did to him. He thought increased heartbeats and butterflies in the stomach were for teenagers, and he wasn't one.

Max needed help.

**Help me if you can, I'm feeling down****  
****And I do appreciate you being 'round.****  
****Help me get my feet back on the ground,****  
****Won't you please, please help me?****  
****Help me,****  
****Help me,****  
****Ooooooo.**


	3. Michelle

**Thank you very much for your reviews! They mean a lot, I really appreciate them! Now, I want you to read this chapter together with listening to **_**Michelle! **_**Hope you'll like it!**

**Warning: finally some action:P**

Max had a great afternoon with that girl. He found himself amused with everything she said in her unique French-English dialect. He found that she was not half as arrogant as she had looked when he had first set an eye on her. Her personality was unusual and strong. She had an interesting sense of humor, and she was far more daring than she looked.

**Michelle, my belle.****  
****These are words that go together well,****  
****My Michelle.****  
**

It was a hot summer afternoon, and when the sun set, the evening was just as hot. He pulled off his leather boots and groaned. "I can't stand the weather." He protested. "Sitting here, looking at the water makes me crave it!"

"Zen why don't you fall and swim?"

"It is bloody creepy here… I mean, it certainly isn't clean and you don't even know what creatures live beneath…"

"Are you scared?"

"Of course not!"

"I dare you to fall!"

"I would, but I don't have bloody swimsuit!"

Then, without any warning, she pushed him and he lost his balance, falling into the sea with a loud _splash!_ His t-shirt and light summer trousers were immediately soaked. Fortunately he knew how to swim well. However, he was completely taken aback. "Are you mad, woman?" he shouted, as she laughed. "It's freaking cold in here! And... wet!"

"Well, of course it is wet, it eez water!"

"How would you feel if _I _threw you in the sea?"

She gave him a smile which exposed all her teeth. "Hereuse." She whispered.

******Michelle, my belle.****  
****Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,****  
****Très bien ensemble.**

He realized that it was difficult to breathe, and the reason was not the water around him. The temperature was quite pleasant, actually, and he had missed swimming. No. The reason was that the petite French girl was now unzipping her dress and letting it fall on the ground. A set of white lace was hiding certain parts of her body, but that didn't make any difference to him. He was extremely turned on just because of that gesture of hers, and he found himself obsessing over the idea of touching any covered or uncovered part of her body. Her skin looked so pale, so soft, so… inviting.

She walked near the platform, and jumped in the water, sending a wave to cover him.

**I love you, I love you, I love you.****  
****That's all I want to say.****  
****Until I find a way****  
****I will say the only words I know that****  
****You'll understand.**

The sky was now dark. She swam a little around him, and then smiled. "See?" she said. "I didn't 'ave a problem! Did my dare. Now what about you?"

"What do you dare me to do?"

She splashed him and pretended she was seriously thinking. "I dare you to kiss me!"

He chuckled and got closer to her. "T'_es sûre_?" he whispered, and moved some wet stray hair off her face.

"Oui." She said in an almost trembling voice. Immediately, he threw his arms around her waist and held her tightly, while locking her lips with his. Her eyes opened widely in surprise, it was true that she wasn't really expecting this. Then, she closed them and was lost in the movement of his salty lips. She put her hands under the t-shirt which was stuck on his body. His mouth traveled on her jawline and neck, tasting the saltiness of the water, mixed with her own sweet taste. She placed her fingers under his chin and raised his head, forcing him look at her.

"Merci." She muttered."

"Merci? Pourquoi?"

"For making my birt'day so lovely!"

**Michelle, my belle.****  
****Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,****  
****Très bien ensemble.******

**I need to, I need to, I need to.****  
****I need to make you see,****  
****Oh, what you mean to me.****  
****Until I do I'm hoping you will****  
****Know what I mean.****  
**

He thought for a while, and then grabbed the edge of the cement platform with his hands. He climbed up and got out of the water, on the solid ground. She looked confused, but he threw his arms to her and helped her get out too. Before she could manage to realize what was happening, he had placed his arms under her back and knees and had raised to her from the ground. He started walking.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" she screamed, between her laughter. They were both soaked in water and she was not even wearing clothes. He opened the taxi door and threw her inside. He grabbed a towel from the back seat and covered her. Then, he locked the doors. "What…" she started, but he cut her with a second kiss. She responded willingly, and her hands stroked his back and hips over his clothes. He moaned with pleasure and climbed on her. They continued kissing as his hands tried to touch more of each other. The sound of the claxon, which was pushed by his hip, caused them both to jump.

"Maybe we need to get zis to your 'ouse." She whispered.

He nodded and pulled away. He sat properly on his seat, fastened his seatbelt and started driving.

**I love you...****  
**

They made it to the apartment laughing. Luckily, she had managed to wear her dress, as when they entered they found that Jojo and Sadie had not left yet for the café. Sadie was twirling around in a colorful skirt, as Jojo was playing the guitar and singing. They both stopped when they saw Max and Michelle, and understood they should be going. Before walking to the door, Jojo looked at their wet clothes quizzically. "Is it raining outside? Sadie, do you have an umbrella?" But Sadie literally dragged him from his shirt and closed the door behind them.

**I want you, I want you, I want you.****  
****I think you know by now****  
****I'll get to you somehow.****  
****Until I do I'm telling you so****  
****You'll understand.****  
**

When they were left alone, they burst out laughing again, as if they were high, despite the fact that they had not drunk or smoked anything. She got rid of the dress again, and helped him take off his sticking top and trousers. Then, he threw her to the wall, and she started kissing him again.

"Michelle", he said in a husky voice, breaking the kiss. "Je t'aime."

She could not bear it any more. The only thing which got between them was their underwear, and they quickly dealt with it. He put his hands under her hips, raising her from the ground and making his way to his bedroom.

**Michelle, my belle.****  
****Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,****  
****Très bien ensemble.**

"Moi non plus." She sighed, while falling on his bed.

**I will say the only words I know that****  
****You'll understand, my Michelle.**


	4. Baby you can drive my car

Max had never been down with love more seriously in his whole life. The quirky girl who was now staying with them had made him see things from a completely different prospect. Michelle had helped him a great deal to recover from the horrible memories of the war, and she was trying to keep him sober most of the time. Surprisingly, she was succeeding. She always used to say "I can have fun and get 'igh by myself, wit'out ze 'elp of anyt'ing, t'ank you very much!" And she was right! Her unique humor and unexpected reactions had made his reality interesting. She was getting along very well with his friends, Jude and Lucy loved her from the first moment they met her, and Sadie could really use her rebellious suggestions concerning fashion.

He was driving his taxi and she was in the front seat, humming the song which was playing on the radio. She was wearing a huge straw hat and a crochet blouse over her psychedelically printed pants. Her sunglasses were covering half her small face. He looked at her with amusement.

"I can see that New York has even altered your style! Maybe you are quite enjoying the big bad city!"

"I used to say zat you 'ave to be insane to leave Paris, especially for New York! But for a sexy boy comme toi...!" she answered with a funny growl, punching him teasingly on the shoulder.

"Be careful, Chellie, you'll make me lose control of the taxi! You'll get both of us killed!"

"Not'ing will 'appen to us, si je suis in ze taxi to save us! I can drive better zan you, loser!"

He laughed. "Do you even have a license, babe?"

She frowned. "Stop and get out."

"What?"

"Stop and get out. Je veux conduire ta voiture."

Her childish smirk was adorable. He parked the taxi on the side of the road and they changed seats.

"I don't want to die."

"You will, if you don't shut up!"

**"Baby, you can drive my car,  
Yes I'm gonna be a star.  
Baby, you can drive my car,  
And maybe I love you."  
Beep beep mm beep beep, yeah!  
**

She was driving surprisingly well and smoothly. He ran a hand over her knee and it got slapped. "Grow up, darling!"

He chuckled. "I love the way you pronounce G and R together!"

"You'd better!"

She hummed together with the radio for a little while, and then cleared her throat. "Max, 'aven't you ever thought of… doing something?"

"But I'm actually _doing _something, I'm staring at your almost mercilessly revealing top!"

"I mean, do somet'ing wit' your life!"

She was sounding like… his parents. His features suddenly tightened. "What do you mean, Michelle?"

"I mean, you can't be a taxi driver forever."

"Why, isn't that good enough for you?" the volume of his voice was slightly raised.

**I told that girl that my prospects were good,  
She said, "Baby, it's understood.  
Working for peanuts is all very fine,  
But I can show you a better time."**

She parked the car next to the pavement and looked at him, insulted. "Max, 'onestly, what do you t'ink of me? If I wanted money, or de la reconnaissance sociale, I'd be in Paris now, my family 'ave plenty of zat zere! I'm talking about your own good, you would feel complet! It wouldn't do you any 'arm to learn t'ings, to study, to do somet'ing about your talents! Jude dessine!"

"Well, Jude might draw, you might write, but _I_ have no special _fuckin' _talent. If you don't like me the way I am, then…"

She felt a lump on her throat, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Excuse-moi, I didn't mean it like zis. You definitely have many talents and zat's exactement why I said it. Of course I don't want you to change. It was just an idea. Oublie-la."

He sighed, and her expression made him feel guilty. "I am sorry, I didn't want to raise my voice." He pulled off her hat and caressed her short hair. "You are beautiful."

**"Baby, you can drive my car,  
Yes I'm gonna be a star.  
Baby, you can drive my car,  
And maybe I love you."  
Beep beep mm beep beep, yeah!**

She leaned forward and cupped his face in her hands. Their lips met. Their kiss was broken after they both chuckled, thinking about their stupidity. They had each other, that was what mattered.

"Now, ma belle chaufferine, will you drive my car?"

She placed her hands with the bright red nails on the steering wheel and sped up quite unexpectedly. He looked scared as he fell back on his seat. She opened the windows and their hair started blowing in the wind. He laughed loudly, enjoying the feeling.

**I told that girl I could start right away,  
She said, "Listen, baby, I've got something to say.  
I got no car and it's breaking my heart,  
But I've found a driver, that's a start."**

He knew New York like the back of his hand, and he had never seen these streets before. "Where are we going, baby?"he shouted, in order to cover the sound of the wind with his voice.

"Je ne sais pas!" she shrieked, and they both fastened their seatbelts, laughing.

**"Baby, you can drive my car,  
Yes I'm gonna be a star.  
Baby, you can drive my car,  
And maybe I love you."  
Beep beep mm beep beep, yeah!**


	5. Can't buy me a hard day's night

She sat on the couch, making doodles on the space of the page where she was writing on. She could not really concentrate to write properly. Time had passed, and she was alone in the house. She did not go to Sadie and Jojo's concert, as she would go out with Max after he finished his shift at the taxi. She really longed for some good music, but going out with her boy was more important. She bit the little eraser on her pencil, and made a grimace because of the bad taste. She sighed, and just on time, she heard the door opening.

Max entered the apartment, humming. He threw his beret on the table, and came into the "whatever room".

"You are back!"she gave him a small smile. "Are we going out?"

"But it's late, Michelle," he moaned, and sat next to her on the couch, running his hand down her back, placing a kiss on her neck.

"I waited for you. And I did not go to ze concert!"

"We'll go out tomorrow. Now we can take a nap…"

Her face fell. "I wish I could see you more, Max. You never 'ave time…"

"But, Michelle, I am tired. I have to work. I have to bring money home."

**It's been a hard day's night****  
****And I've been working like a dog****  
****It's been a hard day's night****  
****I should be sleeping like a log****  
****But when I get home to you****  
****I find the things that you do****  
****Will make me feel alright.**

She sighed. "At least if you came 'ome earlier…"

**You know I work all day****  
****To get you money to buy you things****  
****And it's worth it just to hear you say****  
****You're going to give me ev'rything****  
****So why on earth should I moan****  
****'Cause when I get you alone****  
****You know I feel ok**

"I don't need no money. I only need you." She answered, and continued in a sad singing voice: "You can't buy me love, Max!"

**I'll give you all I've got to give****  
****If you say you love me too****  
****I may not 'ave a lot to give****  
****but what I've got I'll give to you****  
****For I don't care too much for money****  
****For money can't buy me love**

It was his turn to sigh. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. "Michelle, why aren't you happy with anything?"

She smelt his breathing. "Max," she whispered, starting to get angry. "You drank. Why did you drink? Didn't we agree you should stop…"

******Can't buy me love****  
****Everybody tells me so****  
****Can't buy me love****  
****No, no, no, no**

"I'm not a baby," he muttered in an annoyed voice. "My life and routine are difficult, you know. I have the right to drink!"

"I don't know what is wrong wit' you. You weren't like zat when we met. I t'ought you loved me."

"Of course I love you!" he placed his arm around her shoulder, but her body stiffened.

"Then why won't you try to do somet'ing, to learn somet'ing, at least to find a 'obby? I say zat for you, it's so sad seeing a talented person…"

He raised his voice. "Do you know what's wrong with you? You are ashamed of me. You are ashamed because I dropped university and made my decisions. You always were. Enough!"

She didn't try to hide the tears which were strolling down her cheeks. "You are right." She whispered. "_Ça suffit_."

He was starstruck. He wanted to believe that she meant different from what he understood. He knew he had been wrong, he knew he had been mean with her, but it was too late to make up for it. His heart was racing, as he saw her walking to his –_their- _room. He followed her, and his heart almost stopped when he noticed that she was throwing clothes in her suitcase. He walked toward her, afraid to touch her, afraid to apologize, afraid to stop her.

"Michelle, what the hell are you doing?" was the only thing he managed to whisper.

"I have to go to my family. Only for a while, Max. I need to t'ink."

He could not stop her. He had been terrible and he deserved that. He just felt like falling, falling and sinking deeper in the dark. She locked her suitcase and turned to leave the room. He could not escort her to the door.

"T'ank you, for the 'ospitality." She said in a trembling voice, trying to prevent herself from bursting out, and walked out of the room. He heard the apartment's door opening, and then closing. He stayed there, with his arm raised, like he was trying to catch her in the thin air, and get her back.

She was gone.


	6. Yesterday

Max lit a cigarette and placed his feet on the couch. Yes, it was true that it was not his day. He most certainly had had better moments in his life. Actually, it was the first time that he was feeling like that.

Oh yes, Max had experienced bad feelings indeed. It was true that the last year could not be exactly characterized as "pleasant". Max shivered when images of the war filled his mind again. Those terrible memories would never leave him alone after he got back, injured. The nightmares haunted him every night, making him afraid to sleep. It wasn't really easy driving his taxi every day without any sleep at all. When Jude, his best friend, came back from England, he had started feeling better during the day, but he had nobody to help him during the night.

He had never felt ashamed that he was afraid in the night, like a little kid. He had forgotten many feelings, such as shame, as their place was taken by others, more strong ones: fear, constant fear, and need for a "fix".

That was true. He had almost become a junkie. He hated the word. He would never feel bad for raising his parents' eyebrows because of disapproval of something he did. He would go with many different women, he would get drunk, he would drop off college, and he would smoke strange things. But no, this state that he was in, _did_ make him feel bad. He hated depending to something.

**Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away****  
****Now it looks as though they're here to stay****  
****Oh, I believe in yesterday.**

In fact, he liked being dependent to something. More specifically, to someone. He did not mind depending on her. Michelle was the first woman who ever made him feel like that. He loved her, probably from the first moment he set his eyes on her. She had helped him. She had helped him a great deal with his addiction problems, he was sure that there was no way out, but there was, and she had shown it to him. When he was with her, he felt completely normal and whole again, and he did not need any "fix". She was his fix.

But there was a tiny little problem.

Well, he had fucked up.

And as a result, she had left.

**Suddenly, I'm not half to man I used to be,****  
****There's a shadow hanging over me.****  
****Oh, yesterday came suddenly.**

From the day when he got Michelle in his taxi, and she immediately decided to stay in his place, a miracle started happening. He was able to sleep again. She would snuggle next to him, and take the most unexpected positions when she slept, she would curl up or end up with her feet on her pillow. Her scent was calming, and he would sniffle her short hair, he would hug her waist, and he would sleep. No nightmares, no fear, just sleeping, like a baby, with a marvelous unique girl next to him.

Well, he guessed that was over now. He would have to learn to drive his taxi without any rest at night.

She had only tried to make it better for him, to make him cut his bad habits, to help him discover things about himself, but he had pushed her away. So, it should be his mistake.

**Why she had to go I don't know she wouldn't say.****  
****I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.****  
**

He missed her. Oh, how he missed her. He just wished he would close his eyes, and then open them, and see her standing there. Or that he could go back in time and apologize for what he said, for raising his voice, for every shit he had done.

But it was probably too late now, wasn't it?

Max put his cigarette in the ashtray and sighed. Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play, but today everything looked slightly more difficult.

**Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.****  
****Now I need a place to hide away.****  
****Oh, I believe in yesterday.**


	7. You've got to hide your love away

Jojo opened the door of the apartment with the spare hand, the one which was not holding the guitar. He knew who would be in the flat, before he even saw him: Max had not left the house for over a week, except from going to work. He had been walking around in the same shirt, like a ghost. He saw him opening the fridge and taking a beer.

"Max, bro, it wouldn't do you any harm to shave, y' know!" he said.

Max gave him a tired nod, and took a sip from the beer. He looked annoyed by the comment. He was actually feeling annoyed. Right, it was true that his looks weren't at their best, he definitely had to shave and change that shirt he had been wearing for days. He was in terrible need of some fresh air and of some rest, but he could neither sleep or go out. Jojo knew that Max could notice the pity looks coming from his friends, and the worried looks coming from his sister, but he tried to avoid them. For the same reason, Jojo was trying to act like everything Max was doing was normal, so he wouldn't make him feel uneasy. The blond man placed the bottle on the kitchen table and made his way to his room, scratching his beard. Before he left, Jojo noticed that, apart from anything else that seemed wrong on Max, his fingers were grey and dirty, like Jude's always were after sketching. He knew that Jude had left a few sketching pencils in the flat, and he thought it would certainly be good for Max to start sketching too, even if he did not have their friend's talent. Jojo had grown to find that art was the only possible cure for everybody's problems.

He made his way to the sofa, when his eyes fell on a couple of wrinkled sheets on the table in front of him. Next to them, was one of the very same sketching pencils he had previously been thinking of. He took one in his hands, not being able to resist to see what was on them. He found himself surprised to see that Max had not been sketching.

No. He had been writing.

Writing lyrics.

**Here I stand head in hand****  
****Turn my face to the wall****  
****If she's gone I can't go on****  
****Feelin' two-foot small****  
**

He could not believe in his eyes. He grabbed his guitar and started combining the words with chords. The lyrics were very nice, and he loved what he was hearing himself singing. Max was talented, that was for sure. If these were his, he surely was talented.

**Everywhere people stare****  
****Each and every day****  
****I can see them laugh at me****  
****And I hear them say**

He heard Max's door opening slowly, and he noticed his figure coming to stand before him. He tried to hide a smile. Max would either be surprised, or he would murder him for reading what he'd written without permission.

"Jojo," he started in calm voice, while throwing a cracker in his mouth. "What the hell are you singing?"

Jojo raised his head and grinned. "Your masterpiece!" Max's face flushed and he clenched his fists, as he saw the pieces of paper. "Where did you find them?"

"On the table. Not a really good place to hide something, if you want my opinion mate!"

"Bring them here!"

"Too late, Max, they already are a song in my head and you cannot get them out of there, y' know!"

**Hey you've got to hide your love away****  
****Hey you've got to hide your love away**

The song which Jojo kept singing, caused Max to shiver. He did not know if it was the guitar, the amazing voice of the guitarist –he already knew about it- or the lyrics, which were his, and had now become a proper song, portraying perfectly all his feelings. It was better than writing them. Way better.

Jojo continued, without raising his head. "They are very good. You have a talent!"

Michelle and what she always said about his possible talents came to Max's mind, and he felt his heart racing. "I don't wanna hear about my talents." He muttered.

**How can I even try****  
****I can never win****  
****Hearing them, seeing them****  
****In the state I'm in**

And then the door opened, and they both recognized the well-known sound of Sadie's pointed boots. She entered the "whatever room" and pulled them off her feet. "Whoa, Max is out of his room! That's what I'd call good news!" she smiled, threw her arms around Jojo's neck and placed a kiss on his head. What 'you playing, love?" she asked him, "new song? I like it!"

"Nice lyrics, aren't they?" asked Jojo, between his singing.

"Yeah. Who wrote them?"

"Maxie did."

**How could she say to me****  
****Love will find a way****  
****Gather round all you clowns****  
****Let me hear you say**

The woman raised her bushy head and fixed her eyes on the unshaved man, then they fell on his dirty fingers. "Really?" she looked quite surprised, but also proud. "They are good, boy, they are rockin'! Why had you never written for us in the past?"

"Because I was almost getting killed in Vietnam, in case you have forgotten." He murmured.

"Right. Well, hero, I have an idea, or should I call it an offer? And I think Jojo will more than agree."

**Hey you've got to hide your love away****  
****Hey you've got to hide your love away**


	8. She loves you

Max entered the apartment and threw his beret on the table. Then, he noticed the presence of two other people in the room. Lucy and Jude were already there, waiting for him. He immediately felt scared about what was going to follow. He was not in the mood of Lucy worrying over him, and Jude trying to convince him to get out and meet new people.

Instead, they stared at him with smiling faces. Lucy made herself comfortable, resting her head on her elbows, on Jude's lap, and started humming a tune, undoubtedly to her brother.

**She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah****  
****She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah****  
****She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah**

Max shot the two of them a disbelieving look. "What's that, now? Are you laughing at me? Haven't I been through enough?"

Jude chuckled, and continued in the same tune, with his heavy Liverpudlian accent.

**You think you lost yer love,****  
****Well, I saw her yesterday.**

Max's heart started racing. "You… you saw her? Where? Is she in New York?"

Jude nodded.

**It's you she's thinking of****  
****And she told me what to say.**

"What? What did she tell you?"

**She says she loves you****  
****And you know that can't be bad.****  
****Yes, she loves you****  
****And you know you should be glad.**

Jude saw Michelle? In New York? She said she loved him? Max thought he was dreaming. Or that his sister and friend where playing a bad prank at him.

**She said you hurt her so****  
****She almost lost her mind.****  
****But now she said she knows****  
****You're not the hurting kind.**

He felt his cheeks burning. True. He had hurt her. He had acted like a jerk and he completely regretted it. But he was not the hurting kind, that was for sure. He just didn't know what he was doing.

Oh, Michelle. She was there, in New York!

**She says she loves you****  
****And you know that can't be bad.****  
****Yes, she loves you****  
****And you know you should be glad. Ooh!****  
**

"Did… did she tell you for how long she's staying?"

"Not for long. She's come to visit her sister fer a week or so, things not so good in France, ain't they?" his friend answered, enjoying the battle which seemed to be going through in Max's head.

Lucy threw her blond hair back and took Jude's turn.

**You know it's up to you,****  
****I think it's only fair,****  
****Pride can hurt you, too,****  
****Apologize to her**

_Yeah, right, _thought Max, _like you apologized when you should. Poor Jude, you made him go through a lot too! _However, she seemed to be right. He should pull his pride away and try to win hi girl again.

Oh, how he missed her.

**Because she loves you****  
****And you know that can't be bad.****  
****Yes, she loves you****  
****And you know you should be glad. Ooh!**

"What can I do?" he asked desperately. "I have work tomorrow morning, and I've just started! They're waiting for a new song, I have to hand it by tomorrow morning, and I haven't even started. But… but I want to see her!" he ended up looking like he was talking to himself, in a complete delirium.

"You can do them both, mate!" smiled Jude. "You can do them both!"

**She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah****  
****She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah**


	9. I need you

Michelle opened her eyes and looked outside the window. Summer was coming to an end, but it was still warm and sunny. She stretched and sat up on her sister's couch. Jacqueline had a new boyfriend who was sleeping with her, making it even more difficult and awkward for Michelle to stay in the apartment than it used to be.

She didn't know what had brought her in New York. She honestly could not understand. It seemed like Paris made her feel depressed, but why on earth did she think that she would feel better in America.

It was worse. She should have expected it. She felt lost again, like every time she found herself there. She hated America. The comparison with Paris was inevitable. But when he had found Max, he had made America seem fun and familiar even more than Paris. Why did she think it could be the same? She was not with Max anymore. She had realized _that, _after all. His absence had brought her life to the previous fear and uncertainty.

She heard the phone ringing, she pretended to still be asleep. She heard Jacqueline answer, and then she heard her footsteps to the living room where Michelle had been staying. She opened the door.

"Qui a téléphoné?"

"Il m'a dit de te dire d' écouter le radio." Jacqueline said, looking a little surprised.

Michelle was confused. _Il? He? _Who had called and left that strange message for her. No one knew she was there. Except…

Jude.

She threw herself up, and turned on the radio, to the station Jacqueline told her. A song had just ended, she heard the guitar closing, and then the presenter talking. "…You've just heard Sadie with Jojo, the extremely talented and famous duet, in "Ain't she sweet". Sadie's really sweet, if you want my opinion!" Michelle smiled. It was nice knowing that she had met those people, and lived with them, even if it wasn't meant to see them again. It all seemed so faraway… "And now, the newest lyrics writer of their songs, a surprisingly young talented man who has just signed his contract with their Strawberry Jamz, will sing his newest song himself! Ladies and gentlemen, we give you… Max Carrigan!"

Michelle's heart caught to her neck. It was beating so fast that she was certain it would erupt right on the radio. Was it possible that she had heard that? Max, writing lyrics? Max singing on the radio? Was she going to hear his voice?"

He heard Jojo's guitar, and then came his voice. It was extraordinary, hearing it after all this time. She didn't care if he was a taxi driver, or if he didn't love her, she just was happy to hear him.

**You don't realize how much I need you.****  
****Love you all the time and never leave you.****  
****Please come on back to me.****  
****I'm lonely as can be. I need you.**

She couldn't believe he had written the lyrics. He was so talented!

Oh, how she had missed that voice singing to her! How she had missed his touch, his smell, even when he was drunk, how he had missed his lips on hers, everything was coming in her mind, shaking her violently. How could she try to forget about him?

******Said you had a thing or two to tell me.****  
****How was I to know you would upset me?****  
****I didn't realize as I looked in your eyes...****  
****You told me.****  
**

Indeed, she had a thing or two to tell him. Had… had Jude talked to him? Had he told him he had seen her in the street?

**Oh yes, you told me, you don't want my lovin' anymore.****  
****That's when it hurt me.****  
****And feeling like this, I just can't go on anymore.**

Jacqueline was standing behind her, listening to the song, Michelle didn't see her face, but she was sure that it had an expression full of surprise. She didn't mind that her sister was in the room too, she didn't have time to think about it, she was just happy that Peter, Jacqueline's boyfriend, was out. She wouldn't bear his presence too.

There was a lump on her throat, and suddenly, tears were strolling down her cheeks. She was laughing at the same time. She probably looked crazy, but it was alright, people had always thought of her as crazy.

**Please remember how I feel about you, I could never really live without you.****  
****So, come on back and see just what you mean to me.****  
****I need you.**

She knew what she should do. He was asking her to go back, and she would go. She got up, threw a pair of jeans under her night-shirt and grabbed her hat. She ran out of the flat, and did not realize people shooting her bewildered looks, due to the fact that she was running in the streets of New York with fluffy slippers and wide brim hat. Oh yes, she would forget her shoes, but she would never forget to wear a hat. She took a cab with her heart pounding in her chest. She was lucky that she knew where Strawberry Jamz records were, she had gone there with Sadie.

She gave the taxi driver 20 dollars and did not wait for change. She just ran out and burst into the records. She didn't know if she actually remembered where to go, or if she just went there by luck, but after climbing some stairs and ran into a corridor, she found herself in the recording room, and saw him behind the glass.

There he was, her own Max, with his beret, singing to the microphone, shaved and smiling.

There were two bodyguards too, who grabbed her shoulders and tried to get her out.

"Max!" she cried. "I'm 'ere!"

**But when you told me, you don't want my lovin' anymore.****  
****That's when it hurt me.****  
****And feeling like this, I just can't go on anymore.**

She saw him looking around, like he was already waiting for her to come. When their eyes met, she smiled, and stopped singing. The rest of the band continued playing, thinking that Max forgot his words or that he was extremely high.

He ignored them. He ran out of the room, and shouted to the bodyguards. "Leave her. She's with me."

Her arms were released, and she could get a glimpse of blond hair before she found herself into his arms.

**Please remember how I feel about you.****  
****I could never really live without you.****  
****So, come on back and see just what you mean to me.****  
****I need you. I need you. I need you.**


	10. Huit jours par semaine

**Huit jours par semaine****  
****Trente-six heures par jour****  
****Il faut que tu viennes****  
****Me parler d'amour**

Michelle opened her eyes, as a few sunrays entered the room through the window. It took her a few seconds to get used to the light, and then she turned on her side smiling. It wasn't really easy to immediately understand where she was, but that morning scent of the apartment and of him, could never get her wrong. He was still asleep on his back, with his mouth open, snoring.

**Oh oui oh oui****  
****J'm'ennuie sans toi****  
****Huit jours par semaine****  
****Reste avec moi**

Michelle guessed she had to cope with his snoring for a lifetime, after all, it didn't seem too bad!

Her relief that she was sleeping next to him again, was massive. It was a wonderful feeling, waking up neither in her sister's flat, nor in Paris. She had missed funny and reckless Max so much, that it was like she had met him again from the beginning.

She rested her head on his naked chest and started caressing his pale shoulders. She noticed that they were paler than a few months ago, she found it natural, it was summer and he was a taxi driver, he should have also gone to the beach with the others. _Without any other girl, _she hoped. But then she looked at him stirring and unconsciously hugging her. She shouldn't worry. He was hers.

**Love you ev'ry day girl,****  
****Always on my mind.****  
****One thing I can say girl,****  
****Love you all the time, ooh**

He yawned and opened his eyes. "So you're real, Chellie" he murmured. "I was not dreaming."

"I am real, as far as I know. And you're writing music, or was I dreaming yesterday?"

"Yes, actually I've signed a contract with Sadie's record company. Didn't I tell you yesterday?"

She slowly climbed on him, letting the sheets fall off her body. "We didn't have much time to talk, yesterday, Max."

He smiled and stretched, and then placed a kiss on her shoulder. "I remember _that_. I quite enjoyed myself last night! I had forgotten how… sexy you are! Quite a seducing little girl."

She kissed him on the lips and he stroked her back. "I've missed waking up next to you." She whispered, causing him to shiver.

"I've missed everything about you."

**Hold me, love me, hold me, love me.****  
****I ain't got nothin' but love girl,****  
****Eight days a week.**

"'ow did you spend these months of my absence?"

"They were pretty charming."

He felt her stiffen in his arms. "What is zat supposed to mean? Were zere any ozer girls?"

He nodded. "Many of them. I have lost the count."

She had missed his twisted sense of humour, but hers was even more."

"Zat's amazing, honey! Maybe I can meat zem and we'll all hang out togezer!"

He looked at her, scared. "But, babe, you know there weren't any other girls!"

She sighed. "You're such a baby, Max. Zat's why I love you."

**Huit jours par semaine****  
****Cent jours par mois****  
****Cent jours par mois****  
****Je t'aime****  
****Cent jours par mois****  
****Je trouve que ça ne suffit pas****  
**

She threw her on her back and climbed on top. "I love you more. I adore you, to be more precise. Don't leave me again."

"You wrote a song for me. 'ow could I leave you?"

"Oh, is that why you want me, then, only because I write songs now?"

"For zat, and for being such a beast in bed." She teased, tracing her fingers on his back.

**Eight days a week****  
****I love you.****  
****Eight days a week****  
****Is not enough to show I care.**

He kissed her neck and moved lower, nuzzling his head in her chest. "I'd love to stay in here for a lifetime! It could be my new home!" he muttered.

She laughed and pulled his shoulders to force him look at her. "I'm up 'ere, Max!"

"You are right, and your face is such a stunning sight for someone to be looking at."

**Love you ev'ry day girl,****  
****Always on my mind.****  
****One thing I can say girl,****  
****Love you all the time.**

"We lost all those months apart, for such stupid reasons. And now I guess we must gain our lost time."

"Don't worry, we have a lifetime to make up for it."

"On ze ozer 'and, I believe that even seven days a week is little for us to be togezer! I wish I 'ad eight days, to show you my love."

"Just don't stop showing it, every minute. Because I need it." He said seriously, and then kissed her again.

**Huit jours par semaine****  
****Trente-six heures par jour****  
****Une nuit deux semaines****  
****Par année d'amour****  
****Oh oui oh oui****  
****Aussi longtemps****  
****Il faut que l'on s'aime****  
****Pendant mille ans****  
****Pendant mille ans****  
****Pendant mille ans**


End file.
